


Vacation Planning

by mific



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Bargaining, Cats, Crack, Crossover, Fanfiction, Gen, Humor, POV omnipotent, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:33:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29732544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mific/pseuds/mific
Summary: Persephone bargains with Death for her troublesome son, Reynaud.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 13
Collections: Black Is Beautiful 2021





	Vacation Planning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [facethestrange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/facethestrange/gifts).



> Written for one of the crossover prompts by facethestrange, in the 2021 Black is Beautiful exchange. The POV's omnipotent, as is appropriate for immortal beings.
> 
> If you're not familiar with The Magicians, all you really need to know is that in the TV series Reynaud is an evil trickster god and the son of Persephone, and just before this story, Persephone, aka Our Lady Underground, persuades Julia (one of the magicians) not to kill him with a magical bullet.

After Julia’s act of mercy in sparing Reynaud’s life, Persephone rematerialized herself and her son on a nearby hilltop, deep in the woods. She wasn’t ready to return underground yet. She was still too angry.

Reynaud stretched, looking self-satisfied. "Mortals," he sneered disparagingly, "so gullible. They can be talked into anything."

With a gesture, she turned him into an oak. It wasn’t a long-term solution, but she couldn’t stand his gloating. Let him accumulate the slow wisdom of trees for a hundred years or so, then she would see.

Persephone turned to look out over the rolling countryside, sensing the wake of the storm and healing the worst damage to any lightning-struck trees. It was a pity her irregular manifestations were so traumatic to the earth and its creatures, but a sudden, unnatural change of seasons always brought dramatic weather. Of course, the storm had first been called up by the young magicians, but they had been deeply wounded by Reynaud which was in large part her responsibility, so she forgave them.

I CAN STILL SEE HIM EVEN THOUGH HE'S A TREE, YOU KNOW, said a voice behind her.

"Ah," she said, turning. "I thought perhaps you had allowed me that small mercy."

YOU DIDN’T DO IT FOR HIM, Death said, tapping his scythe thoughtfully against the bole of the oak that was Reynaud. Its leaves shivered, even though there was no wind. YOU DID IT FOR THE GIRL. TO STOP HER DESTROYING HERSELF THROUGH VENGEANCE.

"That too," Persephone conceded. "But he is still my son."

WE ALL MAKE MISTAKES, Death said generously.

She put on her darkest and most fearsome aspect as Queen of the Underworld. "Will you come between a mother and her child? Look what my own mother did, after I was taken!"

YES, YES, YEARS OF DROUGHT AND FAMINE. I HAD TO WORK OVERTIME, Death agreed, not at all bothered.

Persephone deflated. " _Can_ you take him?" she asked. "He is a god, after all."

EVEN GODS DIE, EVENTUALLY, Death said. EVEN YOU, ONE DAY.

Persephone raised one eyebrow. "I’m rather more than a god, as the embodiment of the seasons."

EVEN THE SEASONS WILL COME TO AN END, Death said, his eyes glowing as he looked at the land spread out below them. AND SOONER RATHER THAN LATER, THE WAY THESE HUMANS ARE GOING.*   
[*He was keeping a close eye on the impending ecological catastrophe. It was going to be a very busy time.]

Persephone shot him a look. "Doesn’t it trouble you, that in the end you'll be all that’s left, in the heat-death of the universe?"

I TRY NOT TO THINK ABOUT IT, Death said dryly. AND WHO KNOWS WHAT WILL REALLY HAPPEN, WITH ALL THIS QUANTUM NONSENSE.

"Well," Persephone said, suddenly impatient with philosophy. "What of Reynaud? Will you leave him to me?"

IT WAS HIS TIME, HAD YOU NOT PERSUADED THE GIRL, Death said, cocking his head, which caused disconcerting things to happen to his spinal vertebrae. HE MAY BE A TRICKSTER, BUT THIS IS ONE TRICK TOO MANY. HE IS IN ARREARS, AS IT WERE. He looked up into the branches of the Reynaud-oak, which rustled nervously.

Persephone eyed him. "Come now. Mortals make bargains with you all the time, to elude their demise."

Death raised a bony finger. NOT TO ELUDE IT, MERELY POSTPONE IT.

"So what will it take for you to postpone my son’s death?" She asked, folding her arms. "What bargain can I make?"

OFFER AWAY, Death said, rather smugly.

"Somehow, I suspect that a bountiful harvest would be lost on you," Persephone said, with a wry smile. "You’re not the type to enjoy ripe melons or fragrant peaches."

THE JUICE GUMS UP MY JOINTS, Death agreed. IT’S ANNOYING.

"Yes," Persephone said, "I can see that it would be. I’ve rather gone off fruit, myself, especially pomegranates." She thought for a moment. "What about garlands of spring flowers, to deck your brow?" she asked, with very little hope.

NOT REALLY MY LOOK, Death said. I WOULDN’T WANT ANYONE TO THINK I’D GONE SOFT.

"I hardly think that’s likely," Persephone said, gesturing at his skeletal figure and racking her brains for another bribe to offer. "What do you like?" she asked, in some desperation.

Death pondered for a moment. I’M RATHER FOND OF CATS.

"Cats?" Persephone brightened. "We have cats. You could come for a vacation."

THERE ARE CATS UNDERGROUND? Death asked dubiously.

Persephone nodded. "Oh yes, the Egyptians made sure of that. Not quite as many as you might think, of course, what with the nine lives, but believe me, we have all the cats you could wish for. Surprisingly few from Ancient Greece, though, considering the number in Athens these days."

A VACATION, Death said, considering the idea. He had never visited the Underworld; it had seemed redundant. I CANNOT ABANDON MY POST, he eventually said, somewhat regretfully.

"We could arrange someone to cover for you," Persephone suggested.

SUSAN IS UNAVAILABLE, UNFORTUNATELY, Death said. She had texted* him something incomprehensible about a young man.   
[*Not on a phone, you understand. The letters had just appeared in the air, glowing an eldritch green.]

"I’m sure Hades will step up if I ask him," Persephone said breezily. It was, after all, the very least he owed her after the abduction, not to mention eons of putting up with his gallows humor. "It’s more or less in his job description."

HMMM. Death thought this over. The god of the Underworld would be a reasonably appropriate locum, with sufficient gravitas for the role. HE’LL HAVE TO BRING HIS OWN SCYTHE, he said warningly. He never went anywhere without his; he’d feel naked without it.

"Of course," Persephone agreed, waving the detail away. They had halls of edged weapons, heaped in great mounds. There must be a few scythes among them.

THEN I AGREE, Death said. A VACATION. It would be a nice change, and restful, as long as he stayed away from Valhalla or any Valkyries. They were far too noisy with all that toasting.

He knocked his scythe against the oak again, to let it know he hadn't forgotten. Some bark fell off and the tree groaned.

Satisfied, Death turned and took Persephone’s arm. NOW, MY DEAR, TELL ME ABOUT THE CATS.

* * *


End file.
